Reassemblings
by tridecawho
Summary: The Midnighters are finally back in Bixby. But after two years of minimal communication, what have Rex and Melissa become to each other?
1. Chapter 1

The old door creaked open out into the windy Oklahoma night, causing Melissa to step back on the rickety porch, worrying the unstable panels of wood. The house had fallen farther into disrepair over the two years she'd been gone, weeds consuming the yard, paint almost completely chipped, the windows' screens cut buy foot-wide holes. She was surprised the neighbors hadn't filed a complaint, or forcefully thrown Rex out.

There he was, standing just inside the house, tall and thin as ever. His shaggy hair had grown back in, almost covering his eyes, and sticking up in all directions, as if he'd just woken up. He wore a black button-down and jeans, his usual attire.

The expression on his face was not particularly amorous, or longing, or surprised. He'd known she was coming—the midnighters had run out of money, of will, and of stamina, needing to come back to Bixby to stay or at least recuperate. No one dared go back to their own homes, however, to the parents that thought them dead or kidnapped.

Staying with Dess, what with her sane parents and all, was out of the question. Jonathan was going to sleep in the one other small bedroom in Madeleine's house, and Melissa was to stay with Rex.

However, he looked confused.

She could taste it in his mind. Hers mirrored his confusion, doubts on what to do, what to say. The first few months of the road trip, Melissa had imagined them embracing in relief at the first sight of each other, falling immediately and more intensely back into their relationship.

However, things had changed as time went on. They didn't communicate much, calls falling from once a week to once a month to once every few months. She'd thought about him often, and him about her, but as time went on without each other, they'd begun to view each other as lost loves.

"Hey, Rex." She managed to get out, cracking a smile. The words felt odd on her lips. Despite their time apart, whatever had been between them warranted more than a simple greeting—but a hug? For Melissa, this was an intimate gesture, and she didn't want to force this action on Rex's unsure mind.

He battled with the same problem, stifling it with his words. "Hey… Melissa. It's been a long time." _I missed you, _he thought, accidentally.

Melissa had missed him too, but she wasn't going to say it. It was one thing to think things, another to announce them, because behind every announcement is a purpose, whereas thoughts are just… thoughts.

Vaguely, Melissa noticed that he'd used her real name, rather than her old nickname.

She was suddenly struck with the terrible image of her standing needily on his doorstep, forcing herself into his home.

She ignored the thought; she knew, and felt, that Rex was happy to help, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel.

Rex asked her to come in, and she followed him down the familiar hallway, so memorized she could run it with her eyes closed. She lifted her long dress to avoid it from catching the dust on the floor—she'd long ago ditched the unnecessary things, but some spark of sentimentality in her made her choose to wear the dress that day.

The hall opened into the kitchen and living room, which was empty of people—the old man must have been in his barely-used bedroom.

Melissa dropped her bag next to his couch. "Home, sweet home," she said, sarcastically, and then regretted her words. They implied that she was to stay at his house for a while. She corrected them before Rex had the chance to even think over her latest statement. "For the moment, anyway."

"You could have taken my bed," Rex offered, uncomfortably. "You haven't had one in two years, so I figured…"

"Don't worry about it," she said. "We used to sleep at motels a lot, before money ran low. And I don't want to kick you out of your bed. This is great." Better than sleeping in his bed, anyway. She was sure it'd be comfy, but the awkwardness of sleeping where he slept overwhelmed her mind.

A faint whisper from deep inside Rex remembered that in the first months after her leave, he'd imagined them _sharing _a bed—innocently of course, but at that point, somehow, it'd seemed like a reasonable idea.

"Rex—" The name escaped her lips with more emotion than anything she'd said yet. She covered the slip by collapsing onto the far end of the couch, bringing her feet up with her. "How… are you?"  
He knew what she meant, of course. A main worry on both of their minds before her leave was how Rex would cope with his darkling side without Melissa's human touch.

"I'm fine," he said, his mind reeking of sour milk. "I'm doing okay."

_You're lying,_ she thought to herself.

"That's great!" She drummed her fingers along her thigh in the silence. "Do you think you might ever get completely better?"

There was a moment's hesitation, ended with one forced, quiet word. "Maybe." He traced his finger over a crack in the couch, not looking at her. Their lack of communication was like a heavy weight on her chest. How had their relationship deteriorated to so little? "I'm gonna… get a drink." He turned towards the kitchen, rummaging the cabinets for a clean glass.

Melissa almost hit herself. She was acting like such a fake idiot, with the guy she had known for ten years, her best and oldest friend. If not emotion, he at least deserved some honesty.

"This is bullshit."

Rex turned around sharply, almost dropping the glass he'd found.

"We both know you're not better, so let's quit screwing around, okay?"

Rex turned away from her, filling up his cup in the sink. The taste of anger emanated off of him in waves.

Her eyes widened. "God, Rex, I didn't mean—"

"I'm going to Madeleine's," he said suddenly. "Can't trust Jonathan to feed her right. See you later, I guess."

He almost ran down the hallway, grabbing his coat and slamming the door behind him.

All she could taste was that he couldn't wait to get away from her.


	2. Chapter 2

He slammed the door shut behind him, leaning against it in relief. He let the blocks in his mind fall at once, allowing himself to finally think freely. Here inside Madeleine's crepuscular contortion, no mindcasters could hear his thoughts—to Melissa, it would be as if his familiar taste had suddenly disappeared.

Too many thoughts screamed for his attention for him to count. He'd loved Melissa before she left, and it had broken him for her to leave. Then she'd stopped calling, and he couldn't call her, seeing as she always called from random pay phones.

Two years had gone by. They'd grown up, maybe only a little, but immensely to the mind of a teenager. They were now both legal adults, free from the Bixby curfew and from the control of their parents. Rex would be attending Oklahoma State the next year, on a history scholarship and student loans. Melissa was going nowhere.

Was their relationship just a silly high school thing? Would Melissa leave again, or even stay, when he left for college? Was it worth it to even find out?

Was _she _completely over him? Did she have any feelings for him whatsoever?

And did his worrying over the subject show that he did still want her, or did his uncertainty prove that he didn't?

Rex groaned and trudged over to Madeleine's couch, collapsing with his head in his hands.

His anger and confusion suddenly and unexpectedly transformed into something he couldn't control. His hands sharpened into claws and gripped his dark hair, ripping it out of his head.

Rex told himself to breathe and simply ride the attack through. He found there was no use fighting it—without the help of a mindcaster, these things only got stronger and more persistent when fought.

It seized his body, muscles clenching and unclenching, as if it wanted to be a snake, slithering its way along without legs. In reality, Rex probably looked nothing like a snake, more of a writhing drug addict going through withdrawal. A cross between a voluntary human whimper and an angry growl escaped his clenched teeth.

Images crossed his mind; of the hunt, of feeding, and as time went on, of attack. His human side reacted with disgust, and then victory, but his currently dominant darkling side reacted with hunger, and then fear.

And then he felt it leave him, carried away down his body, ending with a final curl of his toes.

He shuddered, trying to take a deep breath. Looking at his shaking hands, he saw several strands of dark hair entwined between his fingers. His scalp ached.

"Crap," he muttered, dusting the hair off of his hands. Madeleine's floor was already dirty enough, he thought, it wouldn't make much of a difference.

He leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes and trying to relax his alert muscles. In truth, Madeleine could feed herself now. Unlike Rex, she'd healed with time. He'd only used taking care of her as an excuse to think freely inside her house.

Rex was struck with an idea, but felt uncomfortable doing it. Even though he was inside the crepuscular contortion, years of having his mind watched still plagued him. But he forced himself to relax, ignoring his worries.

Rex imagined himself holding Melissa in his arms, a comforting, long lasting hug. He tried to remember the feel of her, how much he'd have to lean down to reach her, the angle in which he'd tilt his head in order to touch the bare skin of her neck.

His heart was pounding from the innocent fantasy. He sat up strait, putting his head back in his hands, unsure.

The idea was so appealing. He realized that was all he wanted to do at the moment. But did he want to _be _with her? What would come with this? Did she want it, too?

It'd been so long. The same statement he'd been telling himself all day repeated itself in his mind. It'd been _too _long.

"Trouble in couplesville?"

Jonathan Martinez stood at the entrance to the kitchen, holding a bruised apple. His tone was sarcastic, as it used to be when speaking to Rex, but it held none of the underlying carefree happiness it once had. His eyes were empty, and his face was angry. He too had aged two years, but he hadn't aged well.

Rex's voice was quiet. Rex and Melissa had never acknowledged their relationship verbally to anyone when they were together. But with the look on Jonathan's face, Rex suddenly wasn't embarrassed.

"I guess so."

He took another bite. "_One month_ has gone by for Jessica," he said. And, referring to Melissa, "At least you have her."


End file.
